


Anyone Else, Anywhere Else

by witchofaiaia



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Hilda and Marianne are omnipotent gods who just know, I don't usually write things longer than a single chapter so forgive me if it's all over the place, Lesbians know EVERYTHING, M/M, Minor Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, rivals to friends to lovers kind of you get the idea, what the fuck is a plot Lorenz just hates it here and claude is vibing (not really he's sad)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchofaiaia/pseuds/witchofaiaia
Summary: AU where you only see the color of your soulmates eyes and when you two finally meet you can finally see every other color.Just because they're soulmates it doesn't mean they'll get along. Lorenz dreamed his soulmate would be someone his father would approve of and he could remain with despite his nobility; however, it seems the Goddess had different plans. Worse plans. His soul is tethered to Claude von Riegan.
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	1. Weeds and Wildflowers

**Author's Note:**

> "Not all were so lucky to be blessed with a soulmate with green eyes. The color was so prevalent, he could almost ignore how everything else was shades of grey."
> 
> -
> 
> "There is someone on this earth who shares my soul, who shares my heart, even. Purple was such a beautiful color."

His world was bright. Lorenz could not express the relief he often felt when he took a moment to stop and truly see the world around him. Ceasing his studies and frets over his future position even as a child. Away from noble duties, reveling in his childlike wonder of their world. His own corner of the expansive world.  
  
Not all were so lucky to be blessed with a soulmate with green eyes. The color was so prevalent, he could almost ignore how everything else was shades of bland grey. Blades of grass that sprawled for miles vanishing over cresting hills and under early morning mist, so vivid against the rest of the colorless world. Evergreen trees that seemed to glow in the dawn and dusk, looming and giving much needed shade in the summers. Foliage that curled around homes and walls, sneaking in slivers of life into his sight.  
  
Green, Lorenz loved green. He never gave himself time to contemplate what the other colors would look like, how beautiful the entirety of the world could be. Reds, blues, oranges, all the colors he would miss until… No, if he met his soulmate.  
  
It was no guarantee. The definition of nobility held within it restrictions and limits. Lorenz and his soulmate may never cross paths. Such things weren’t uncommon, he could see an example in his own home: his father. Perhaps that is why his father pushed that Lorenz did not need a soulmate, it wasn’t necessary to live nor was it key to carrying the Gloucester bloodline.  
  
If Lorenz’s soulmate was a commoner, or, some would think this was worse, a foreigner, they certainly would never have a chance together. As a friend or lover. He would pray before bed, the cold wooden floors pressed against his knees, for some mercy that his soulmate may be someone he could not lose. A woman, graceful and noble, that would meet the needs of his House and remain by his side. If the Goddess had any miracles left within her power she would give Lorenz that kindness.  
  
Nobility was not kind to soulmates, nor those born into it.  
  
Often, Lorenz just sat outside during the day and looked for every speck of green. Overturning stones and logs, wandering beyond the reach of guards to his father’s disapproval.  
  
“It would benefit everyone if you were to quit your obsessive thoughts,” Count Gloucester would scold him with that deep scowl and voice like gravel, “if I see you’re not meeting your potential as a noble and a Gloucester I will stop being so lenient of how you use your spare time. I expect better of my son and heir.”  
  
Such warnings only made those moments away from his lessons even more important. Anything to bring a warm sliver of hope to him after his father’s words left him cold. Moss, soft and dark, that grew between cracks in rocks and the bark of trees. Lichen attached to low hanging branches and cobbled walls. Pale greens, mint greens, dark greens. It was the color of life.  
  
Lorenz wished he could wrap nature around himself like a blanket or cloak and nestle within the comfort it brought the boy. It was enough, he supposed, to be able to escape and see it all if he could not be swaddled in the reminders of his soulmate.  
  
There was someone out there who was half his soul. What was his soulmate like? It hurt to ponder when it seemed the reality of his world was grim. They’d likely never meet, and if they did the chances they were a woman from a strong noble house was even less likely. Lorenz wondered, at such a young age, which would hurt most: to never meet or to meet and never be able to stay?  
  
Maybe his father was right.  
  
Alas, it’s the fault of all to hope. Maybe that is what made him so jaded as the earth spun and the seasons changed: unfulfilled hope.  
  
-  
  
Khalid wondered if he was cursed, or if he had been born under some bad omen. Did a dark mage sneak into the room where his cradle was kept and plant some twisted spell on his soul? Was there a god out there with some personal vendetta against him? It seemed his existence was enough to evoke ire from all. Nature, human, and ethereal.  
  
His world was grey. His world was small. His world was dangerous. Smuggled, hidden, and silent. To protect his life, to spare him from the hands of assassins and political enemies. Wherever he stood he was placed outside of the communities. A stranger, an outsider. Even as a small child, Khalid understood well enough where he belonged. Or, rather, where he didn’t. Did any child deserve to feel so alone? So often his views lacked color he thought his soulmate was dead, and he wasn’t sure if he could grieve for a person he never met.  
  
Purple. Such a rare color with how he lived.  
  
When he saw it a thrill went through his chest, like the rapid fluttering of the wings of hummingbirds. His heart seemed to strengthen, and he thought perhaps today will not be so bad. There is someone on this earth who shares my soul, who shares my heart, even. Purple was such a beautiful color. He’d pluck the pale wildflowers that grew in Almyra, running his fingers over the soft petals.  
  
Someone with such a unique eye color must be special. It went against logic to wonder and hope for something so ridiculous… But, perhaps it was the child in him, he would like to think his soulmate was someone strong. Someone fair and honest. Like the kind of rulers who defeat corrupt kings and slay evil beasts. It was silly, he knew this.  
  
Khalid could not deny the comfort those fantasies brought him as he held the flowers close in his small fists. Soon the petals would wilt to that all-to-familiar grey. The color was so fleeting, passing through like the sands of time between his fingers. And soon he’d begin to feel that usual pang that rang clear in his chest: loneliness.  
  
It would all begin once more. Exiled, hated. Alone. The world was cold and grey, and his chest would hollow out as the thoughts came back. Had his soulmate died? It had been a week and he hadn’t even seen a speck of purple. Nothing. Khalid would stare and stare, willinging for someone to wear something purple. A flower to bloom. A berry to be picked. Paintings to be hung, tapestries to be weaved. Anything, any sign that he wouldn’t be alone forever. That there was someone who would see him and understand him.  
  
Someone who he could reach out a hand to and never have to fear that they would not grasp it and pull him forward. Without thinking he had crushed the flowers he held, he glanced down at the wrinkled petals and flattened base. Purple. Still purple.  
  
He hoped until they met his soulmate would stay well. For now he would just have to search for the flashes of color that eased his heart.

-  
  
Green was, he thought, an awful color. It became as dull as the rest of the world through Lorenz’s eyes. It was so common, he could meet three people everyday with green eyes. Green hair. Green clothes. Stems of flowers and curling vines that once left him warm now all were nothing but weeds. Overgrown, undersaturated. It all faded to grey.  
  
Would he ever meet his soulmate?  
  


Lorenz almost snapped his quill in half one night in his room. Sat at his desk as frustration pooled in his chest and burned his throat. Would he even want to? He wished then and there that his soulmate met their fate before they could ever meet, it would spare them both the pain of living apart in a world of grey. And he wouldn’t have to see that horrid color any longer.  
  
He felt his shoulders sag immediately after the thought had passed, and he dropped his quill. Black ink dripping now onto parchment. Covering up the unfinished stanza of his poem. Lorenz covered his face with his hands. He didn’t mean such a thing, he couldn’t truly wish for that. That night he didn’t sleep, praying to Sothis that his prior wish be ignored.  
  
Please, he begged anyone who could hear his prayers, let my soulmate be happy without me.  
  
-  
  
Claude found a bit more purple in Fodlan, specifically in Leicester Alliance territory, and that gave him more hope. For once in his life he was being given signs of hope! That maybe, just maybe, he was closer to finding his other half. It gave him a bit of confidence in the foreign land, a bit of a spring to his step and he held up his head higher despite the odd glances he drew.  
  
Even if people saw him as a stranger or the odd man out, he had purple. The Duke’s estate had such luxuries hung up on the walls that were like fireworks to Claude’s eyes. Lavender swirls of paint for a soft sunset in the library, sweet plum velvets hung on bedroom walls, and aster flowers in crystal vases. For hours Claude would sit in vacant rooms with his eyes trained on such objects, thinking.  
  
He found the reminders of his soulmate made his thoughts flow much easier. The flaws became more apparent and he could correct them, as if someone was poking holes in his train of thought as to prevent his mistakes.  
  
Had his ambitions not been so pressing, he might have taken more time to drink in purple besides these brief moments. Though, Claude could now safely assure that his soulmate was alive everyday. That was more than he had before. His heart, steeled as it was, held onto that hope: there was someone who wouldn’t hate him.  
  
One was enough, when previously you had none. Who they were, where they were from, or what their past held meant nothing… So selfishly, Claude just wished to be loved. 

-

The greenhouse at Garreg Mach was bittersweet. It was, as the name implies, green. Mockingly so. The vines, stems, and stalks were lively and bright, until it got to the blooms. Grey. The petals and buds as dull as rusted metal or a wooden spoon. Lorenz glanced down at the rose pinned to his uniform. All of it a rainbow of grey. His lips were pressed into a tight frown, his eyebrows knitting together in frustration. 

  
Purple, his eyes were apparently purple. No one saw purple unless they had already met their soulmate, apparently. It felt right that he should be such a difficult person to find when his own soulmate’s eye color was far too common. Irony was a cruel trick from the Goddess. Lorenz supposed that should have made things easier for whoever he was tethered to.  
  
The odds of him meeting his soulmate were so low, and the outcome held nothing but sorrow, so he should just accept his duties as a noble as his father had been requesting for so many moons. Marry well, have children, and secure the Gloucester legacy. His time at this school was just the beginning of those duties as many noble families sent their daughters here. The last piece in his preparations for leading his territory. Once this was over he’d soon settle into the title and demands of Count Gloucester.  
  
It all felt incredibly sad, despite this path being the one where he was likely to do the most good. Make his people happy, make his father happy. His hand rose and fell over his heart, feeling the rhythmic beat. That was all he’d have. A title and this vile color. Green. How it mocked him and his position.  
  
“Are you hiding away, too? First days are the worst, everyone’s a stranger,” a voice teetering on laughter startled Lorenz from his thoughts.  
  
He looked up and towards the greenhouse entrance. A boy his age stood there with his hands thrown behind his head, gazing at him with a lazy grin and green eyes. Cold, cold green eyes that didn’t match his tone, stance, or smile. There was something familiar about him… Lorenz narrowed his eyes.  
  
The boy’s eyes widened, a flicker of life and gears turning as he met Lorenz’s eyes. “Purple.” The word left his lips and his jaw went slack. “You’re.. Purple. Like, really purple.” It was as if he’d never seen the color before, not that Lorenz cared. He was struck with annoyance at the other’s tone, he almost felt as if he was being made fun of.  
  
How did Lorenz know him? He watched the other wordlessly, ignoring whatever he was saying. He’d surely be able to recall such a strange interaction in the past, especially if they had green eyes. Was he a noble? He didn’t act like one, Lorenz’s eyes scanned him up and down. The lacking posture, the unruly hair. How unfitting. A merchant's son? A knight? Did he belong to the Church in some capacity?  
  
“Oh, you’re the gothic silent type,” the boy collected himself, brushing off his uniform as if he had collected dust just by standing there. He gave Lorenz a strange look, raising one of his eyebrows as he stood under his sharp purple gaze. “That’s cool, I prefer being the mysterious loner. A mystery only spoken about in ghost stories kind of deal, you know? Anyway, I’m Claude von Riegan.” He threw his hands behind his head, turning now to look around the greenhouse.  
  
It was Lorenz’s turn to stand there with his mouth open to catch flies. “Riegan? You’re…” His father had warned him about the Duke’s successor. Claude von Riegan came out of nowhere with the crest needed to take over the Leicester Alliance, and the worst part surrounding all that was that he wasn’t even from Fodlan. His appearance was shrouded in a thick mist, and no matter what questions were asked or research was done an answer was never made apparent. Had Claude not revealed himself, the conversation may have gone well. Lorenz recovered his noble disposition, and mentally sorted his priorities, “You will do well to know and commit it to memory, Claude, that I am Lorenz Hellman Gloucester. The son of the esteemed Count… Glouces…”  
  
Green.  
  
Where had all the grey gone? Lorenz froze, unable to speak as the world bloomed and unfurled like buds in the spring. Colors he only could read of and hear of, colors he could for the longest time only try to imagine and dream of. His eyes drank in the technicolor rainbow that grew like spilled ink bleeding through paper. The flowers were.. Were.. He didn’t know. What were those colors? They seemed warm, they made his chest feel warm like he was standing in the sun’s light.  
  
“Wow,” Claude breathed next to him.  
  
Lorenz’s eyes snapped to him, “You see it as well?” What was happening? This was all so quick, he was unprepared. Their world was changing in the means of seconds.  
  
He could only nod, his green eyes jumping from flower to flower until they landed on the rose pinned to Lorenz’s uniform. Claude seemed to linger on it for a moment, before turning to look at the plants behind him.  
  
Once the initial wonder passed, Lorenz was struck by the realization. Claude was his soulmate. The one person his father tasked him to keep an eye on, the one person he was told to never trust. The one person who took away Lorenz’s chance at something more than being Count Gloucester. He could have been the Duke. Lorenz’s hands curled into fists at his side. This had to be some cruel joke, a mistake of some kind. Does the Goddess make mistakes with soulmates? Was that possible? Lorenz would rather have no other half than be tied to Claude von Riegan.  
  
In that moment Lorenz decided that he did not have a soulmate and that he hated Claude von Riegan. If he could have he would have willed his world back to grey and to take the color green with it.  
  
-  
  
Hiding. Always hiding. When Lorenz stormed out of the greenhouse with a look of what could only be described as pure, unbridled rage, Claude stood there alone. Feeling the silence was heavy and being grateful the dorms weren’t more than a few steps from the greenhouse. He hid in his room, trying to decide what this aching feeling in his chest was.  
  
It was different from normal loneliness, and hard to decide if it was better or worse. Maybe it was sorrow? Or even guilt for opening his mouth? Worse, it choked him like there were thorny stems growing inside his chest and throat.  
  
Claude shouldn’t have been so surprised that luck would have it that his soulmate also hated him. He wondered if there was anyone else who seemed to be the personal court jester for the fates, because he, frankly, felt like he was the punchline to some sick, twisted joke. If it was possible he somehow felt lonelier than he ever had in Almyra or Fodlan, and it seemed these new colors were no different than the usual greys.


	2. What They Lack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's pretty obvious something is up between Claude and Lorenz, and some of their classmates share their thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They do be fighting tho.
> 
> Also apologies ahead of time for how I wrote Marianne and Hilda, this is my first time writing for them.

Lorenz formulated a foolproof system for pretending that him and Claude were not soulmates. First, he would not talk to him unless he was forced to thanks to their Professor. Second, he would not sit within two seats of him to avoid any class discussions with his house leader. Third, he would not even look at him. Finally, he would not talk about him unless he had to write to his father. This system was nearly perfect, except for the rare occasions when they were assigned to group work together or forced to support one another during mock battles. 

Classes were quiet, and it seemed, to Lorenz’s relief, that this was working. Claude did not acknowledge him, there was no backlash.  
  
The other Golden Deer began to wonder if Claude had the plague with the physical distance kept between him and Lorenz. He began telling others he had yet to see any other color except green, claiming he still hadn’t found his soulmate. While lying may have been frowned upon he deemed that as the less of two evils than others discovering Claude was his soulmate. 

Lorenz didn’t answer questions about why he stayed faraway from Claude, and thankfully there weren’t many, it seemed after a few days they found answers for themselves or people had gotten tired of asking. Whatever the reason, people grew to accept this reality. Even the Professor.  
  
As school began to settle into a normal pattern and everyone found their friends and enemies, Lorenz found his own. His niche being sharing tea with the likes of beautiful noblewomen and his future allies. He worked around his schoolwork and physical training to find time to indulge in a cup or two a week with anyone who accepted. Ferdinand was often his go-to, as they had similar thoughts on tea and the current status of nobility.

One day he sat in the gazebo with Marianne, enjoying a fresh pot of earl grey tea with lemon bread she had baked with him overlooking the process. She wasn’t one to trust in her own abilities, yet. The breeze was refreshing, carrying the scent of the tea from their cups and cedarwood from a morning delivery of construction materials. Overhead the gazebo shaded them, keeping the two nobles out of the direct light to find optimal comfort.

The sky was a pale blue, faded and almost tired-looking as if the world was still waking, though he could make no comment of that. He wasn’t supposed to see blue. Not the blue in the sky, or the blue of Marianne’s braided hair.  
  
“I’m sorry if I’m speaking out of turn,” she spoke softly as she placed her cup on the saucer gently, silently, “but I wish you’d show even a fraction of the kindness you’ve shown me to yourself and our other friends.” Marianne wouldn’t look at him, her eyes cast down at her holds folded neatly in her lap. Over the dark fabric of her uniform that pooled over her slim frame and off the chair.  
  
He thought, bitterly, that it was easier said than done. Especially when among their classmates was Claude. Lorenz sighed, picking up his cup and admiring the porcelain. Under the smooth glaze lay pale orange roses intertwining with dark green vines, it was something he couldn’t appreciate before. This gift from Ferdinand. He prayed she didn’t think his staring at the cup was off, praying she hadn’t been tipped off that perhaps he had found his soulmate recently, “Tomorrow is a new day, I can try then if that would please you.” He took a sip of the tea, mentally cursing that he hadn’t brewed it nearly long enough. The taste was barely there. “Marianne?”  
  
She hummed in acknowledgment, raising her head a bit. Loose strands of her hair bouncing as she did so. Her gaze was still downcast, still ever so demure.  
  
“Do you think the Goddess makes mistakes with our soulmates?”  
  
Marianne had already met her soulmate, and they looked so happy together. Her and Hilda made an interesting duo, but no one could deny that they made up for what the other lacked. Hilda’s loud and abrasive nature was charming in it’s own way, a stark contrast to Marianne’s own quiet and timid nature. She looked at him for a brief moment with something akin to pity, shaking her head, “No, I don’t.” Quickly she returned her gaze to her lap. He didn’t know why he had expected a different answer. She had her unwavering faith and a strong support with Hilda. “Do you, Lorenz?”

He loathed the question, but found himself compelled to answer. It would be rude not to.  
  
“... I find it hard to put into words often, but I find I wonder if I actually do have a soulmate. That maybe I see green as some sort of default and that there is no one who will understand my core.” His thumb ran over the glazed porcelain, warm from the tea and his own hand. Lorenz’s free hand fell to his heart once more, “I understand the simple thought is slander against the Goddess, it sounds as though I lack belief and faith, but nonetheless I cannot shake it.” That was another requirement of nobility: staunch faith in the Goddess Sothis.

  
She was quiet for a long time, and he feared that she may not have heard him. Maybe that wouldn’t have been so awful if she hadn’t, it wasn’t normal for him to speak so plainly. His trust in Marianne was strong, it seemed. “There’s someone for you, Lorenz. I hope you meet them soon, you don’t deserve this pain.” Her face was strained, as if she felt his aching for him.  
  
“I find the company of friends like you to be a balm to the pain I create for myself,” he tried to assume a more self assured disposition, trying to be his usual self. “My own thoughts are poison to my future, a true noble wouldn’t be so easily rattled by such nonsense. You can ignore that lapse in judgement, Marianne.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.  
  
Marianne thought of how Claude and him were so similar, but she decided to keep that observation to herself. She simply nodded and cut herself a slice of the lemon bread, realizing both of them had forgotten to make the vanilla glaze. That was another observation she didn’t voice.  
  
-  
  
It had felt like Claude had his soul removed when Lorenz began to distance himself in every way possible. Not that they had started off on the best foot, but the immediate backpedaling was like getting stabbed in the back. They were supposed to be two halves of a whole, but it seemed they were far more fractured than just two pieces. Lorenz and himself were jagged, broken, and missing a few pieces.

Then classes started, and it was, simply enough, rough. Claude had told a lie. It was small, really. Just a white lie. Nothing too big. He only said he didn’t see any colors at all. If Lorenz was so determined to pretend they weren’t fractures of the same soul, he would assist in that endeavor. No one could prove that Claude did or didn’t see any colors, and it seemed no one cared.  
  
When questions about their distance came up, Claude lied again. An argument. Or their parents argued. Or Claude had insulted Lorenz and his father. One thing or another, no one said much afterwards. The strange student and the cold noble didn’t get along, that wasn’t headline news, just a passing fad. Much more interesting rumors flew around about forbidden romances and secret identities of knights.  
  
That was a relief, because lies came too easy and it seemed like someone drove a nail further into his heart every time someone brought up Lorenz around him. Lorenz was cold, egotistical, obnoxious, and in every single way awful. He hated Claude for no reason, like everyone else in the world, and yet… Fate had tied a pretty red string around both their pinkies and connected their souls.  
  
Claude was watching him in class one day, simply watching him write and think. The bobbing of his quill and how the scritching of the quill joined in harmony with the others. Listening to how he worded his answers, how straight his posture was. How his smile grew into a cat-like curl when he had gotten something right that no one else could. Lorenz was the definition of a pompous noble. Thinking he was above everyone else with his oh-so-noble breeding.  
  
“So, when are you going to kiss him?” Hilda leaned over Claude’s shoulder, her pink eyes flickering between him and the purple noble. Her glossy lips pulled back into a cheeky smile, “Or do you just stare at your rival for fun? Are you his stalker? Planning on breaking into his dorm room and getting kidnapped by him and-”  
  
“Hilda,” Claude shushed her, turning in his seat to face forward before the Professor, or, worse, Lorenz, noticed him staring. His face burned at her suggestions, and he convinced himself silently that it was from frustration. There was no possible other reason he would blush. “I just happened to zone out while looking in his direction, for your information. Not that you’re privy to my thoughts and behaviors.”  
  
She ran her fingers through one of her pigtails, smoothing out some flyaways, rolling her eyes with an all-too-loud and all-too-dramatic sigh. “You’re going to tell me you zone out nearly every class looking in the exact same direction as wherever Lorenz happens to be? I’m not dumb!” Hilda wasn’t nearly as clumsy or dull as she played sometimes, which is why her and Claude got along well enough. He would even consider her a friend if it hadn’t been for the fact that she didn’t know him at all.  
  
“No, but you sure are loud,” Claude whispered, praying they wouldn’t attract the attention of their classmates or teacher. His eyes scanned the room, if anyone had heard her they didn’t turn to look at them. He sighed. “Quiet down, you’ll make a scene. He’s not my rival, I’m not his stalker, and no one is kissing anyone. Kissing is for people in love and with feelings, and I meet neither of those qualifications.” Claude kept his voice down, constantly peering around the room to make sure no one was eavesdropping. Call it paranoia, call it distrust. It seemed someone at Garreg Mach was always listening, always straining an ear to hear what he had to say.  
  
Hilda thought for a moment, humming a sweet, nonsensical tune. When she finished her eyes were watching him with a new light, as if she knew something Claude didn’t. Maybe she did. Her smile was too confident for him, much too proud. “Do you really not have a soulmate, Claude?” She kicked her legs under her desk, as if she were dangling them over a pier. Hilda seemed like she was somewhere other than this classroom. Claude certainly wished he was.  
  
“I don’t have one,” Claude tried to keep his expression neutral, chiding himself mentally. Don’t slip up, don’t let the cracks show. Slide into a comfortable spot and sit in it, stay until you’re out of their line of sight. “Guess no one can love me like me.”  
  
Hilda giggled, “I think you’re really missing out, then, when you stare at Lorenz.” There was a glint, then, in her eyes, like a dagger coming to light. Poised to pierce.  
  
“And tell me, my dear Miss Goneril, why is that?” Claude rested his head on his hands, with a cheshire cat grin. This would be funny.  
  
“His eyes are really pretty. Purple is a nice color.” There it was, the damn stabbing pain brought on by her words. So simple, yet deadly.  
  
Claude didn’t let the corners of his lips fall, but he couldn’t will away the lump that formed in his throat that he had to swallow around. He didn’t say anything to Hilda for the remainder of class. Claude fell upon his work and didn’t let his mind stray from finishing his notes. Trying not to think of his soulmate, or lack thereof.  
  
Hilda pretended not to notice, letting Claude have his false sense of security and mystery.  
  
-  
  
The library was quiet, dead silent, and often that would have been a relief to the students within. When Lorenz entered the room, however, and made eye contact with Claude, the three other students put away their books and left. It was known by a vast majority of the student body what was going to happen next. No one wanted to be here when the two Golden Deer began to argue.  
  
Lorenz prayed Claude wouldn’t say a word, he walked to the right wall to look for a book on magic. The Professor had insisted he try and learn, and he couldn’t go against the chance to improve himself for his future. Lorenz could not neglect his house’s relic that he was compatible with either. His eyes scanned the spines of books, all worn and fraying, but still legible. 

Reason, that’s the keyword. Reason magic, magic, dark magic, offensive magic… Anything along those lines. When he finally slid a volume out from the shelf he felt Claude’s eyes on his back. Staring at him, sizing him up.  
  
Evaluating him.  
  
His nails dug into the hardcover of the book at how easily he could picture the exact look upon Claude’s face. Cold, calculating eyes that betrayed his easy, amiable smile and hid his thoughts from all. Claude was appraising Lorenz, nailing him down as some poor fool he could easily triumph over in class and life. No matter what Lorenz did, Claude could do it better. Leadership and diplomacy, battle and homework. He was second, silver to Claude’s gold.  
  
“If you have something to say,” Lorenz spat, glaring at him from the corner of his eyes, “get it over with, I don’t have time to spare on idle chit-chat.” He cracked open the book, his face twisted into a scowl as he skimmed the table of contents. If this book wasn’t useful he may explode then and there. Something had to go his way to keep his head level.  
  
Claude didn’t respond at first, which only burned Lorenz more. How dare he think there was enough time in the day to play these games? “Okay. I want to know why you don’t want to be my soulmate.” Claude closed the book he was reading, a sign he wished to devote his full attention to this conversation.  
  
Lorenz laughed, mockingly, as if the answer was as plain as day. “And here I was under the impression you were intelligent. Must I spell it out for you? I find it hard to believe you have not even the slightest idea of why.” He turned to face the table Claude was sat at, their eyes meeting. Lorenz’s sharp purple eyes met Claude’s enigmatic green eyes. Lorenz silently cursed when his heart skipped a beat, but refused to let it show. His expression remained critical, closed off from the other.  
  
Claude looked to him expectantly, and the mere lack of a verbal response further irritated Lorenz. It seemed his existence had the purpose to spite Lorenz purposefully and purely. His fingers drummed against the table’s surface, echoing in the silent room.  
  
“Fine!” Lorenz approached the table, slamming his book down on the surface. Claude looked up at him with an expression, one mixed with confusion and shock. Or, perhaps, fear? Lorenz wasn’t sure, either way it only made him feel more volatile. He couldn’t stand looking into those green eyes. Those green eyes that were warm and reminded him of home in the honeyed glow of candlelight. Reminiscent of early mornings as the sun began to rise over his estate. “You’re a liability to the Alliance! You’re a stranger, and beyond that you’re ignorant! You don’t understand nobility, you act as though you’re above the standards I and the other nobles hold ourselves to. The games you play, your lacking manners, and your flippant behaviors are a disgrace to all of the Alliance! Someone such as yourself, someone so childish and careless, shouldn’t be the next Duke!” The outburst was, yes, unbecoming of someone in his position. That didn’t matter to him at the current moment, what mattered was the burning in his chest and face. The way his heart was hammering against his ribcage, trying to break free from its confines.  
  
Claude sunk back into his seat, watching the noble huff and puff after his loud spiel. “Is that all?” A nervous laugh escaped him, which he realized was a mistake.  
  
“Not. In. The. Slightest.” Lorenz leaned forward, placing both of his hands on the tabletop so he could get into Claude’s face. “We aren’t soulmates. The Goddess made a mistake that day in the greenhouse! Listen well, Claude von Riegan, and commit it to your memory to save us both the trouble: we can _never_ be soulmates. There is no path that’s paved with our happiness and success as soulmates, it isn’t possible.”  
  
“Right, because you hate me,” Claude sighed, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Lorenz anymore. “Let’s go back to pretending neither of us exist, I suppose that’s what you’d like, huh?” It seemed he wanted to say more, further poke and prod and rile up the nobleman.  
  
He wished to protest, the words were on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t hate Claude. That there were many obstructions that would prevent their happiness, instead. Nobility was the biggest factor, followed by his family. Lorenz picked up his book, grateful Claude couldn’t see his frown. He held onto the book, hugging it towards himself. “It is. I’m glad we can agree on something then.” Lorenz hoped his words didn’t sound as poor as he felt, they certainly seemed to fall flat as they echoed in the room. He watched Claude for a moment, feeling a twinge of guilt as he did so. 

Lorenz didn’t truly hate Claude, he guessed that was because of their shared fate. No one could really hate their soulmate.  
  
“Sure.” Claude’s words were a white flag of surrender. Accepting this was the reality and absolute fate he lived in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will take time, I only have the basic plots of the scenes done. And one of them is 'Claude gets choked by Hilda xoxo'.


	3. Five Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Monastery falls and rises after five years, and it seems a lot has changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short! I just moved into my college dorm last week and I'm finally settled enough to try and write :]

Even a prophet with knowledge that spanned through past and present could not have predicted the events that would spur from Edelgard’s time at Garreg Mach. The pain and suffering she had afflicted onto the students and faculty, and now it seemed that it was going to worm its way into the world outside of the monastery. Her ideology was, it appeared, a disease that was left unchecked. It kept spreading and was too late to contain by the day the Empire’s forces marched onto the grounds of the monastery.    
  
Now, Claude stood watching as his friend, classmate, and, at one point, ally rained down hell and fire onto the grounds of his school. At his friends. Innocents. Those who had nothing to do with her gripes with the Church and nobility. There were merchants, children, and animals here. People who had done nothing to slight another human in their lives. He watched them run from arrows and canon volleys.    
  
The Golden Deer fought. The Blue Lions fought. Faculty fought. They fell. They cried. They bled. And for what? Every soldier they brought down only brought them closer to falling. The Empire forces were too much, too many. For every student at the academy there were ten soldiers who wished them harm. There was no plan, no escape. It was enough to make Claude pull at his hair and want to give up there. Turn tail and flee, it was a tempting instinct. One that assured his survival… But that wouldn’t help anyone else he had grown to care for.   
  
Giving up would hurt everyone more than fighting a losing battle. There was a hope, there was a chance, no matter how slim, at stopping this. At some point, if not today then tomorrow. Even if it stood at less than one percent Claude wanted to grasp his dream. Manifest that new dawn, that golden light. No matter how crazy or impossible, no matter who stood in his way.   
  
Edelgard could just be seen from where Claude stood, her pale eyes sweeping across the way until they settled on him. His grip on his bow was tight, his muscles felt so tense that he could snap and crumble then and there. Who was she to decide who lived and died? Who gave her the same judgement she loathed and is supposedly fighting against? He nocked an arrow.   
  
Could he kill her?   
  
A horse’s whinny accompanied by familiar shouts drew Claude’s attention from Edelgard. His eyes searched for the source among the rubble and fire, the clashing of two tides of a sea at storm. Those noises belonged to someone, a friend, at the very least an ally. He couldn’t spot anyone until he saw a familiar crest in a burst of light, a blast of magic, and a purple head of hair. Lorenz let out a hoarse war cry, as he swung his lance at an Empire swordsman in a less than elegant arc. His horse, Belladonna, was squealing as she took an arrow to her left shoulder. Belladonna attempted to buck him off and after her unsuccessful attempt she ran in circles unable to go anywhere that didn’t lead to an armed foe. They were being backed into a corner to be slaughtered.   
  
“No, no! Steady!” Lorenz panicked, trying to hold the reins with one hand and fend off three enemy soldiers with the other. “We can’t fall here! They need us!” Panic gripped the nobleman, his eyes wide as soldiers closed in on him and his injured steed. His attacks growing less precise and more frantic, his magic fizzling in his hands as panic ceased his ability to concentrate.    
  
“Claude von Riegan!”   
  
His head whipped to Edelgard who had gotten closer without him realizing, if only a few steps. What should he do? She had made herself an easy target, but Lorenz was in danger. This wasn’t a mock battle, there were no do-overs. His heart hammered against his chest, his eyes flickered between the new crowned Emperor and his classmate. This was a game, in some cruel sense, much like chess, but the stakes were far too high and the outcomes too murky to predict.   
  
Edelgard held her axe with a firm hand, letting it hang by her side at the ready. A show that she wasn’t going to allow herself to fall before her mission saw its end. “I know you and I wish to purge Fodlan of the Church’s teachings and influence. The Church holds a dark past and oppressive influence, there is no future for it’s people like this.” The arm holding the axe tensed, her eyes were steady as she locked onto him. “We could end this together, I don’t wish to make an enemy of you.”   
  
Claude wasn’t dumb, he knew he was being trapped. She meant to cut his life short. Throw the Alliance into chaos when, once more, there was no successor to the Duke. No secure leadership. If he wasn’t an ally he was an obstruction. Edelgard was smart, but far too forward. He learned from her to see deceit in every word and advance. “Princess, you don’t know me one bit. I’ve got my own dreams I want to see come true, unfortunately my dreams and yours are far too different to ever coincide.” He raised his bow, aiming at her neck.   
  
Her whole body braced itself and stiffened, taking a few steps back. Attempting to get out of range, but, still, she raised her axe and shield, “Then allow me to be merciful and free you from those shackles now!” Another step back, Claude snuck a quick glance to the side. There was no wind, conditions were ideal.   
  
“Sorry,” Claude turned and shot one of the soldiers who was nearly on top of Lorenz now, “rain check?” Without waiting he sprinted towards Lorenz, his shield raised to cover the majority of his chest and face as he ran across the cobbled path to aid his classmate. He didn’t look back to see if she followed, he didn’t care. That could be dealt with then, currently he had to fend off Lorenz’s new playmates who were getting too rough. Claude smacked one of them with his shield, knocking the soldier off balance before shooting them at close range in the shoulder. Lorenz swiftly took care of the last soldier, getting off his horse to make quick work of them with a flashy spell that seared the air with the smell of ashes.    
  
His face had a smudge of soot across it, his expression pinched with exhaustion. Sweat gathered at his hairline as he walked around Claude to inspect his steed. “I see no resolution to this occurring today.” His voice was quiet, but Claude heard him perfectly despite the chaos around them. It seemed they were in a bubble outside the fight. Lorenz looked at the arrow in his steed’s shoulder, unsure of what to do about the blood and possible infection. His hand hovering over the shaft, debating whether pulling it would do any good. “It’s hard to imagine we can pull some kind of a victory from this. We will lose here, won’t we?”   
  
He can’t recall them ever speaking more than passing words to one another. Without malice or hatred. “Maybe,” Claude watched Lorenz, guilt pooling in his chest at the sight of the noble’s lacking demeanor. It felt cold, like a blizzard was whipping against his ribs and heart. “But that doesn’t mean we’ll lose everything. You can lose a battle, but still win the war, Lorenz.”    
  
Lorenz petted his steed in an attempt to calm himself and the horse, brushing at a bloody matt in her mane with his fingers. He found little comfort in Claude’s words, he reasoned that as a result of her general distrust of him. “Blind optimism is a fool’s choice, you’d be wise to face the reality of this situation. I don’t have time to spell things out for you now.” He patted his horse, leaving it behind as he began towards the heart of the fight with a slight limp. Lance in hand, shield bent and ripped. “The least either of us can do is keep going until everyone else has been evacuated. I can’t think of a more noble duty,” he glanced back at Claude, “can you?” The scene would have been inspiring, had that not been his soulmate marching to his death.   
  
Claude followed him, watching for a potential ambush or even Edelgard herself with keen eyes. Those two alone were worse than facing a demonic beast with just two men, well, Lorenz barely stood as having the strength of one person at the moment. They stalked around the outskirts of the battle, searching for an opening to join their fellow Golden Deer. Claude saw flashes of familiar faces. Leonie and Ignatz slinging arrows at anything that moved towards them, Dimitri mowing down soldiers like they were as flimsy as a house of cards, and the Professor holding off a winged beast by themself. He could have froze there, lost in the fear of losing one of his classmates to Edelgard’s wrath. The only people who had grown to trust him. Grown to need and want him.   
  
“Thank you.”   
  
Claude blinked, raising his eyebrows as he looked to Lorenz. Did he hear him right? “What was that?” There was no trace of that usual teasing or mockery that often arose when they spoke to one another. Genuine shock was laced through his words and expression.    
  
“Thank you,” Lorenz glared at him with those purple eyes that always seemed to pick Claude apart, his face flushing, “for lending me a hand back there. I’m grateful you stepped in.” There was more he wanted to say, but he pursed his lips and turned his head away to stop himself.    
  
How was it that in the midst of everything around them that Lorenz's words caught him off guard the most? “Oh. It was nothing. Let’s just focus, yeah?”   
  
Lorenz nodded wordlessly, readying his weapon as he watched another Empire soldier fall. There was a gap. Lysethia had made one unintentionally, and now they could get in without immediately facing enemies. Lorenz made a break for it, with Claude on his heels and ready to watch his back.

They would not lose everything here, not if they could still hold a weapon.

  
-

It wasn’t hard to believe five years had passed on the grounds of Garreg Mach, what with the crumbling cathedral and the graveyard overrun by weeds and uncut grass. His friends had changed, too, in that time. Once as classmates.. They had all been far less mature back then, quick to judge and isolate. Now they all stood a bit taller, a bit more confident. Everyone here now knew what they wanted, what they were fighting for. Who they were fighting for. That was the biggest change, Lorenz thought.

In the afternoon sun Lorenz pulled up deep rooted weeds from around the untended graves, the only saving grace from the direct light was the occasional cool breeze. He felt like he had bits of dirt in his nose, all he could smell was the dry earth as he tore up the plants. His beige gloves caked with dust and root fibers left a streak across his forehead as he wiped at beads of sweat before they fell.   
  
He was grateful no one was looking for him, he needed a moment's reprieve from talks of battle. From talks of the past and future, this present was overwhelming enough. After clearing two graves he took a short rest, sat against the stone wall behind the grave where the Professor’s father and mother rested. He cast off his gloves, wiping his hands on his pants without much care for what dirt stained them. Lorenz prioritized changing before he had any meetings or dinners to attend later in the day, not wishing to be seen as having grown to be a slob in his five years at war.

Lorenz felt as if he had lost touch with who he was back at his days in the academy. While, yes, he was here to prevent Edelgard from invading the Leicester Alliance. He wasn’t uniting for the same reasons as others. Byleth had not brought him here, nor the desire to follow Claude into his crazy schemes. It was a selfish desire to be a better count than his father, to do what was right for his people and no others. His father would have welcomed such disgrace as submitting to the Empire, blind to the cries of his people and his own son for the sake of victory. If these five years had given Lorenz anything it was much needed clarity on how foolish he was to be his father’s puppet. It still stung to think even now his father would wish to join Edelgard’s bloodbath, shaking hands with someone who’s grip was firmed by war and steeped so deep in innocent blood.

This new clarity also brought with it an immense burden of guilt. By listening to his father and conforming to the standards of nobility he isolated himself from his classmates. His allies and friends. What were all those times spent with the likes of Ferdinand if not motivated by strengthening their future relationship as allies across nations? Afternoons spent with Marianne in attempts to court her and instill his views of noble grace onto her? They were not friends, no, he truly viewed them as pawns to further his success once he became Count Gloucester. And none of that even touched upon his unintentionally poor treatment of those like Leonie and Mercedes. 

Or Claude.

Just the thought of their past arguments left him hollow in the chest, carved out and whittled away with time’s passage. His own ignorance and fear had pushed his own soulmate to, likely, a place they could not recover from. Who would ever wish to spend time with a man like Lorenz after what he put Claude through? Even if he proved he was changed, that he had realized the err of his ways.. That did not erase what Claude had felt back then. An apology would have been a mockery, a kick while Claude was already down.

Lorenz resolved, instead, to do what was right from today on. Support the Duke of the Alliance, support his allies, and protect his home. No longer would he blindly follow those like his father or the Church, it was finally time for Lorenz to act on his own moral compass. It was the least he owed them all, and himself.   
  
“Did you have to pick such a strange spot to hang around?”   
  
His head turned to the bottom of the stairs to see who had come to fetch him. He prayed he was mistaken, but luck would have no such mercy.   
  
Claude wore an easy smile, the same one he had back at school. That familiar smile that never reached his eyes, often left dull in comparison. Besides that he was different, maybe a bit taller. The facial hair was something Lorenz had to grow used to seeing, it wasn't bad. Claude was naturally handsome, he had only grown into his charm with time it appeared. “Took forever to find you, I was afraid we’d both miss the meeting with Byleth.” He appeared to be at ease, no tension held within him as he walked over casually. As if they had not been bitter rivals for so long, as if their past did not exist.   
  
Lorenz felt his body go rigid as if rigor mortis had set in as Claude stood next to him, freezing up with that new shame and guilt. How could he act so nonchalant? Didn’t he loathe Lorenz? “Then I will go and prepare with haste, thank you.”   
  
“Of course. It would look bad on us both if you weren’t there,” Claude either pretended not to notice how Lorenz was closing up around him, or he was truly ignorant to it. He leaned back against the stone wall, his gaze sweeping over the overrun graveyard and the two freshly clean spots. “Didn’t think of you as one to get your hands dirty. Did Byleth put you to work?”   
  
“No,” Lorenz grabbed his gloves, shaking what dirt he could off of them before standing and brushing himself off, “it would have been disrespectful to allow them to go uncared for any longer, and I reasoned you lot had more pressing matters than gardening.” He gestured with a dusty hand for Claude to get going, ushering him ahead and raising his eyebrows expectantly at the crowned Duke.    
  
Claude didn’t budge, meeting his eyes with an odd expression. It was almost like he was the April fool, as if he was in disbelief of someone’s story or joke. The silence between them was growing uncomfortably long as they stared at each other with Lorenz unsure of what was happening. He felt like he was being studied under Claude’s green eyes and calculating gaze, he felt himself growing warm for a reason besides the sun beating down on him.   
  
“What is it? We’re going to be late, aren’t we?”   


Claude shook his head, turning on his heel to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think after this will be another two chapters at most. I only have about 5 other scenes outlined.


	4. Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I see canon and I mangle it xoxo Short chapter on Lorenz and Claude trying to take a step forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> : D I finally have time to write! Between work and school I've been mega tired! But I did my best to write because I missed it!

“...And with that we’ll be well on our way to pushing the Empire’s influence back and gaining much needed support from the Leicester Alliance.” Claude wrapped up his most recent plan with that, standing at the head of the table with a long map unfurled. Carved wooden figures, old chess pieces he repurposed, clustered in different areas. A large group towards the Adrestian border, another smaller group scattered throughout the area of the Alliance and by Garreg Mach.    
  
It was a rather simple plan when you took out all the pretty words and charming optimism: use the newly gained force of House Daphnel with their current troops and engage Edelgard’s army. Win, take bac k the Great Bridge of Myrddin and from there win the favor of the Alliance noblemen who were hesitant to provide aid before. It was many things rolled into one; a show of strength, a much needed victory for morale, a step towards the end.   
  
However, his plan entailed something rather.. Dishonorable. The deception of Count Gloucester which Claude had braced to cause some chaos. He was aware of how such a tactic could appear, as well as how it could easily blow up in his face considering the Count’s son could blow the whistle on him, but it was necessary. With the Count’s attention elsewhere they could easily secure the bridge and from there gain back Gloucester Territory.   
  
Claude had hoped, hell, he even prayed, that getting back Lorenz’s home would be enough to convince the stubborn noble to not ruin everything. There was a lot of talking, his old classmates going back and forth. Weighing the options, poking and prodding at Claude’s plan. Hushed voices that hung low, wondering how successful it would be. Questioning Claude’s own wit and strength.   
  
He didn’t have to hear it to know it was there. It was common. Normal.   


“It is a sound plan, to myself at least, and while I loathe to sneak around like petty thieves in the night… One cannot argue Count Gloucester will not and, likely, can not allow the Knights of Seiros to march through his territory currently,” Lorenz had spoken above everyone, his voice cutting through the debate of others like a freshly whetted blade. His interjection, no, his  _ support _ was unexpected by all. Especially their leader who had been known to clash with him on every topic.    
  
All eyes were on Lorenz. Like water off a duck’s back he continued, unbothered by the sudden attention he had garnered.    
  
“Claude has proposed a rather ingenious plan, one that I intend to follow through with so long as there are no arguments against it. I have yet to hear anyone else present anything that will produce the same benefits, but, please, if anyone has a suggestion I open the floor to you,” Lorenz gestured to his allies, a single eyebrow raised expectantly.   
  
When Lorenz ceased speaking the silence from everyone else hung heavy. Their eyes shifting to one another, looking to see who, if anyone, would step up and challenge Lorenz and Claude. When a few awkward moments passed and no one spoke Lorenz nodded.    
  
He sat down, quietly, and looked to Claude. Waiting.   
  
The Duke was dumbfounded to say the least, not sure what to say except: “Then it’s settled, that’s enough excitement for one day, yeah?” The familiar smile took its regular position on his lips. Familiar, yet cold. “Get some rest everyone.” He turned his attention to the map, making himself look as preoccupied as possible with the chess pieces as to not be bothered.   
  
When a few minutes passed everyone had eventually filed out, speaking in whispers among themselves. It created a white noise Claude could easily drown out as he moved pieces around randomly. Yet, he could feel a set of eyes lingering on him. Another familiar sensation.

“Ah,” Claude nodded, “so you intended on criticizing me in private. How kind, Lorenz.” His voice was forcibly light, teasing even, but he couldn’t hide the slight edge to his words. Of course the noble had ulterior motives. Of course Lorenz didn’t truly trust him. Somehow they had broken every single known element around soulmates. Hatred, mistrust. Denial. Putting distance between themselves. Claude wouldn’t be shocked if Lorenz had somehow found a way to sever their connection.    
  
But, he knew Lorenz hadn’t. There was something unknown, some strange allure. A tug, gentle in every way, that drew him towards the noble. His eye catching on the rose he adopted as his own symbol.    
  
The noble took a few steps forward, approaching his side. He stood tall, posture straight and confident, Claude hadn’t realized how much taller he was until then. He’d wager there was a nearly 15 centimeter difference between them. At the very least there was enough of a difference that Claude had to look up at Lorenz.   
  
Lorenz glanced down at the map, eyes scanning the scattered pieces, “That was not my plan at all, quite the opposite. You think too low of me.” There was a slight downturn to his lips, he looked solemn.   
  
Claude was unable to stifle the incredulous smile that spread across his face. He shook his head in disbelief.  _ You think too low of me _ . It was the other way around for the longest time. Could anyone blame Claude when there was a never ending pattern of Lorenz pulling him apart at any chance? “You’re incredible,” he didn’t mean it in a kind way.   
  
“Right,” Lorenz pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow at Claude. “Anyhow.. I wish to clear the air so there are no misunderstandings between us. I give you my full and unconditional trust moving forward.”   
  
Claude blinked up at Lorenz, meeting his eyes. More striking than ever. He didn’t say a word.   
  
Lorenz took that as a cue to further explain himself, though it wasn’t one. “Though, you are certainly not exempt from any guidance I may provide you when I see you’re veering into fantasy and impracticality with your schemes.... My trust in you does not go hand-in-hand with the belief that you are by any means perfect. It is my belief that you intend to do what is best for the Alliance and all of Fodlan, that is the only reason I have decided now to trust you.” His gaze was level, expression neutral. As if they were sat down playing poker, trying not to let the other know what was going on below the surface.   
  
“Well,” Claude started with a huff, “that’s great, Lorenz, really. I prefer to have the trust of my allies and friends in a war, it makes things easier in the long run. Anything else? I insist I do my work when it’s quiet. And while I'm alone, without your _noble_ _guidance_.” He didn’t quite understand it, but he got irritated by this development. It took over five years for them to even get to trust. Five years of being antagonized and ignored.    
  
Now Lorenz just.. Waltzes on into the war room and decides he can trust him? As if their past didn’t exist? As if they weren’t two parts of one whole? Just strangers getting to know one another.   
  
Well. Maybe they were. 

“No, I have one last thing. That is.. If you have another moment to spare.”   
  
Claude couldn’t read him as he peered at his expression, trying to predict what would happen next. Preparing for whatever the noble wished to throw at him. “Of course, my time exists for everyone here,” he smiled tightly. His lips pressed together hard, trying not to let his emotions slip through.   


“I.. Want to apologize for how I treated you.”   
  
Claude was silent, smile falling to a forced neutrality. He should want this! This was the start to progress, moving forward and maybe.. Maybe actually acknowledging who they were. Claude had dreamed about that for so long as a child. When he was alone. Even now.   
  
He wanted to reach out and have someone extend a hand in turn. He wanted to be desired, needed. Seen, truly seen. Not just as Claude, but as-   
  
“To deny the Goddess’ gift, to deny the truth of the matter and.. And to essentially have exiled you from our shared bond...” Lorenz for once seemed at a loss for words, struggling to find what he needed. Always so composed and dignified. It was a rare sight. "I have hurt you."   
  
And, yet, Claude was upset. He wanted it, but not like this, because he knew what would happen next.   
  
“My word is not enough, I am aware.. But, I hope I can prove myself worthy of your trust. Your friendship.”   


There. “You believe our bond extends only to friendship, then?” Claude hardened, steeling himself for what he’s invited. This wasn't necessarily wrong, some soulmates are just friends. Finding each others support beyond lives and impossible leaps of time. But not them. Claude wanted to say it, name his desires and throw them at Lorenz so he understands what it feels like to constantly be thrown curveball after curveball. For life to never stop kicking you while you were down.   
  
Lorenz took a deep breath, he didn’t delay his answer for more than a second. “Yes, I do. And for our sanity I hope I am right.”   
  
A beat passed between them.    
  
“And if I hope otherwise?” Claude was defiant, searching his eyes for any sign he wasn't that same ignorant man he had been back during school. That he had truly changed and was willing to open himself up to Claude and truly trust him. That he was willing to become someone who could accept Claude.   
  
“Then you will be gravely disappointed,” Lorenz frowned. He rubbed his temple, obviously this hadn’t been what the noble expected. Claude would argue he should have known Claude would prod him, ask more questions than he should. “I explained that much in the past.”   
  
“Nothing has changed that in these five years?”   
  
“No.”   
  
Claude smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, “Then, Lorenz, nothing will ever change.” This was nothing more than an act, and whatever Lorenz wanted wasn't going to be so easily handed to him. Claude had learned to be cautious with the kindness of others, because more often then not they want something for doing the bare minimum. Especially from those like Claude who never got extended the smallest trace of kindness.   
  
He looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. The noble left after a moment, unable to say anything except some quiet parting words Claude didn't quite catch.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry if this feels almost.. Disjointed? I did take nearly 4 week break from writing I think? Time is weird. I tried to keep that flow.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write long fits that have a continuing plot that spans over multiple chapters, I apologize if this lacks consistency and/or quality.  
> 


End file.
